


The Formation of the Hot Dad Club

by orphan_account



Category: Castle, Homestuck, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Rise of the Guardians (2012), Silent Hill, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen, M/M, Meta, Multi, this is so dumb omg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:33:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is so shitty and i'm sorry but i had talked to both alex and shane about a hot dads club and well here you go</p><p>little drabbles about hot dads and cool bros trying to take care of their kids</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shanetids](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shanetids), [ab2fsycho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/gifts).



It starts off as a joke - or, at least, Phoenix thinks it is. It's a semi-snarky comment from Bro Strider that makes Dad Egbert ( _what strange names they have_ , he thinks, but doesn't point out) blush as much as his pale face can. 

"Lookin' pretty rad, yo. Maybe you should start a club for DILFs."

Dad sighs, not wanting to egg the kid on. Phoenix takes the bait, as he's mildly curious. "DILFs?"

"Dads I'd like to fuck," he sniggers. There's a sound of a smack, and Dad shakes his head. It occurs to Phoenix that this was probably Bro slapping his (much) older boyfriend on the ass. Some part of him is glad that Apollo doesn't do this. A bigger part sort of wishes that he would. The resistance comes from not wanting to embarrass his daughter, Trucy. He's pretty sure she's already psychological scared from all the other things that have happened in her short life, and the last thing she needs is that image in her head.

Whether Dad is taking Bro's suggestion to heart, or if he just wants company while Dave and John are off doing whatever (Dad has tried to explain it once or twice, but Phoenix still isn't sure he's buying it), he doesn't know. But there's another familiar face at the table, sipping tea casually.

"Hershel!" The man tips his top hat, smiling politely. He hates to be called by his first name, and Phoenix can't say he blames the man. "I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Ah, yes," Hershel smiled. "I will be giving a lecture at a few universities nearby. I was going to surprise you, but I wasn't sure -" he colors, and Phoenix knows what he means.

"Don't worry about it," Phoenix plasters a fake smile on his face. It probably wouldn't reflect well on such an imminent professor to be see in public with a fraudulent ex-lawyer bum. Even if Hershel says he doesn't believe the fraudulent part. "Anyway, how did you meet Dad, here?"

Dad pulls the ever-present pipe from his disappearing mouth. "He has a very nice hat."

"Although yours is rather unique as well," Hershel comments.

Phoenix rubs the beanie self-consciously. "It's noting compared to either of yours," he says, "but thanks." He ignores the awkward tension that it's possible only he feels, watching Trucy chatter with Flora. "So, where's Luke?"

The Professor blushes furiously. "Ah, well, he is at university back in -" he coughs, "London."

Phoenix frowns, if only because Luke is practically joined to Layton at the hip. He won't press it though, not now. "Speaking of young shadows, where's -"

A sudden flash of light gives Phoenix an answer to the question he has yet to ask. Dad doesn't jump anymore, even when Bro unexpectedly pecks him on the cheek. "Whassup, daddy-o?"

He finds it weird, how Bro can go from sarcastic and abrasive to oddly sweet. He knows that Dad would much rather their relationship be on the down-low, but Bro won't stand for that. Phoenix has to wonder how Dave and John feel about it, if Trucy would be so accepting... "Why don't you sit down, Bro?" The younger man is busy surveying the table's two other coffee-drinkers (well, coffee for Phoenix and tea for Hershel).

"So is this your DILF meeting?"

Dad blushes, covering his eyes with one hand. Hershel raises thin eyebrows. "Do I want to know?"

Bro opens his mouth to give a reply, and is elbowed in the stomach by Dad. Hershel has already figured out not to ask about their bizarre relationship. Phoenix has to wonder how much Dad has told him, and how much Hershel has managed to understand from his incredible intellect. The meaning of the acronym does not seem to have set in yet, so Phoenix chooses a more polite alternative: "We're all hot dads, Hershel."

It takes a moment for the Professor to realize that Bro does not mean hot in the sense of body temperature, although Hershel must be feeling that too. His blush is exaggerated in part because of the orange turtleneck, covered by a long brown coat. It's summer, for God's sake. "O-oh," Hershel says. Like most other obnoxiously educated men Phoenix knows, Layton seems to be struggling with the idea that someone might consider him attractive.

"Yo, why don't you add him too?" Bro inclines his head to the door, where a man in a brown leather jacket is looking around perplexed. He has to wipe of his glasses and squint at the sign, sighing before giving up and walking in. It's been a long time since he's seen someone so lost - possibly the last time was seven years ago, when he was still a lawyer.

"Excuse me, sir," ever the gentleman, Hershel Layton is of course the first to approach the man. He's middle-aged or thereabouts, brown hair looking damp with physical exertion. "You look rather lost. Why don't you sit down with us?"

"Oh, thanks - I'm looking for my daughter -"

Phoenix brightens up, sitting upright in his chair. Bro and Dad might not be so concerned about their kids, but Hershel and Phoenix both know about daughters. "What's her name?"

"Cheryl," he frowns, switching weight from one foot to the other. "She's about -" he holds up a hand, to indicate height. "This tall, she's got short black hair. She turned seven last month."

"Ah," Layton says. His hands are extended like an offer. He does this whenever he's got good news to offer, or wants to help. Phoenix would hate him, if it wasn't completely impossible to dislike the guy. "I believe I have the answer."

"Oh?" the father is sitting on the edge of his seat, vibrating in nervous energy.

Hershel inclines his head, smiling. "She is with my daughter, Flora, and Mr. Wright's daughter, Trucy."

"Call me Nick," Phoenix covers quickly. The 'Mr.' only brings back painful memories. He throws a hand out for the worrywort to shake. "And you are?"

"Harry Mason." Mr. Mason calms down, and orders a coffee. Looking back at his newfound companions, he asks, "Am I interrupting a meeting of some sort?"

Bro snorts. "Naw man, feel free to join the club." He doesn't let anyone interrupt him this time. He winks (or at least, Phoenix thinks he does), and says "I'm gonna go grab Apollo, start a Cool Bro club. Later."

Phoenix sighs, slouching in the wooden chair. Harry looks to him, confused. "It's a long story," Phoenix offers. "He's a Homestuck."


	2. Chapter 2

Bro Strider made good on his promise (which felt more like a threat) to start a 'Cool Bros' club that met at roughly the same time as the 'Hot Dads' club did. Not that either of these clubs was official in any capacity. There was no mission statement, no goal they were attempting to reach - Well, that wasn't entirely true. Dad Egbert was attempting to teach the others - Harry Mason, Phoenix Wright, Hershel Layton, and now Richard Castle - the joys of Barbasol, fedoras, and cake. Castle was the only one excited at the prospect. His fiancee, Kate Becket, rolled her eyes when he told her what he was up to. She opted instead to sit at the table farthest away from theirs, discussing the perils and life of being a cop with Cybil Bennet. 

At least, that's what Phoenix assumes they're talking about. He's not sure what else an animated video game girl and a television woman would have to talk about. It's not as though Harry and Castle had any similar traits, except perhaps how much they loved their daughters.

Phoenix could feel someone watching him. He turned his head just a smidge and caught Apollo's glaring eye. It wasn't his fault that Bro managed to work out Apollo's exact location. Bro was amazing when it came to the things he actually gave a damn about - like embarrassing his boyfriend in public spaces by loudly declaring how good he was in bed. Dad's fedora now nearly covered his nose, but Phoenix could sense a smirk on the invisible mouth. The man had a prank in the works.

Phoenix winked at Apollo, smirking. Apollo shook his head, and tried to redirect the route in which his and Bro's conversation was heading.

Castle had just finished applying an entire can of shaving cream on his face to imitate a beard (Phoenix was surprised to see how approving of this Dad was), reminding Layton of a puzzle, when their group was interrupted. "Oh, there you are, Professor."

Phoenix almost didn't recognize the young man who bent over enough to give Hershel a quick kiss on the lips. Almost. If it hadn't been for that damn hat, Phoenix might have thought it was one of Layton's younger co-workers, or a teaching assistant of some sort. The boisterous attitude gave it away, too. Once he'd turned to survey the professor's companions, Luke's face lit up. "Mr. Wright!" He jumped in place ever so slightly before enveloping the man in a tight hug. 

"Luke Triton," Phoenix patted him on the back. "You've - wow, you've grown up."

Luke pushed back and chuckled. "Yeah, jus' a bit."

It was quite more than a bit. He'd shot up, now exceeding Layton's height (sans hat, of course) by about two inches. His hair was the same honey color, the hat still in decent condition, but his face had become more angular as he aged and his fingers were calloused. The shorts had been replaced by long pants, the satchel by a proper messenger back, and the schoolboy sweater with an elbow-patched blazer. He'd filled out, too, his arms and legs no longer bony or disproportionate. There was something else had changed about him too. His demeanour...much more relaxed.

And then there was that kiss...

"Please forgive my rudeness," Dad spoke up, clearly indicating that the rudeness was not his fault at all. "I'm Dad. I see you already know Phoenix Wright and Hershel Layton. This," he waved, "is Harry Mason -" the man in question raised his hand in tentative greeting "and Richard Castle." Castle gave a broad, open-mouthed smile and found his tongue coated in Barbasol. If Dad had eyebrows, Phoenix was sure they would have been raised. 

"The Professor told us you were in London?" Phoenix asked.

Luke nodded. "There for Uni, but we're on break now. So I thought I'd stop by and say hullo."

Layton shifted uncomfortably, frowning slightly. Phoenix frowned in return, but the other man refused to meet his eyes. He'd have to ask about that later. In the mean time, he took a firm grip of the Magatama in his pocket.

"You should introduce yourself to Bro and Apollo," Castle offered. His face was now clean, but he kept licking his hand to take the taste off. "I'd include my girlfriend in that statement, but she's got a gun."

Luke jumped back, a bit startled. Layton put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, my boy. Ms. Beckett is a cop."

Luke didn't look altogether convinced. "Okay," he said, and left for the counter.

* * *

 

"I don't think we've met before," a voice behind him said. The man now face him was scrutinizing him carefully, his eyes a deep reddish-brown. His hair was styled strangely, with two horn-like bangs poking up in front. He was wearing an awful lot of red, a shiny lawyer's badge on his lapel like the one Mr. Wright used to wear. "I'm Apollo Justice," he offered his hand. It looked threatening somehow - but maybe that was just the tone in the young man's voice. "I'm Phoenix Wright's -" he seemed to falter at the last second, losing whatever determination or steam he had. "Partner," he finished lamely.

Luke took the hand and shook it. "I think I've heard of you." Apollo raised his eyebrows. Luke wasn't sure if the look was an impressed one, or a suspicious one. "My bo- er, friend, Professor Layton. He's a friend of Phoenix Wright's. I'm Luke Triton," with the free hand he had (did Americans always take so long to shake hands?), Luke gestured back toward the table where the Professor sat. "Professor Layton's apprentice. Or assistant. I'm not quite sure which it is these days," he laughed nervously.

Apollo frowned, looking back at the table. The adults were laughing about something. "How do you know Nick?"

There was a bizarre look on Luke's face. Reminiscence and humor. "I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you the whole story. Let's just say that the Professor and I helped on a case, back when I was a kid. When Phoenix was still working with Maya."

Apollo crossed his arms and nodded. "Justice," another voice spoke up. Luke jumped, startled again. He hadn't seen or heard the other man come up. In fact, he could have sworn the fellow was sitting at the table not even half a second ago... "You gonna introduce me to this cutie?"

Luke blushed. "I'm Luke Triton. You...look familiar?"

"He's a Homestuck," Apollo grumbled.

"Bro Strider," the other man offered. His hand was warmer than Apollo's, and rougher. 

* * *

 

"So," Dad asked politely. "What is your relation to Luke?"

Layton had been dreading this. He got asked this question a lot, although usually by people who knew Luke Triton as a child and simply didn't realize that this Luke and that Luke were one in the same. The reaction was never a good one, save for the very few who were not at all surprised by the revelation (Emmy, for one). Layton turned the cup around so that he could hold the body of the cup in his hands. The warmth of the earl grey through the porcelain gave him strength. (Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.) "Luke...was my apprentice, as a child." He swallowed. "He now works and attends the same university as I, working toward his doctorate."

"My," Dad said. "That is rather impressive. He doesn't look much older than twenty-three -"

"But wait," Richard interrupted. "Didn't he..." He shifted. Layton bit his tongue. Here it was. "Didn't he...come in and kiss you?"

"Well, aren't European customs different?" Hershel might have thanked Harry Mason for the offering of an out. He wanted to see the best in people. They'd learned that, had it demonstrated by the stories he'd told of his time spent in Silent Hill. People no one else would have trusted, Harry Mason gave a chance. He was a good man, and so Hershel was not going to lie to him.

"They are," he said cautiously. "However... Yes, Mr. Castle," he turned to face the writer. "Luke did kiss me. He is my partner. In more juvenile terms, I suppose you could say, he is my...boyfriend."

Richard Castle did nothing to hide his repulsion. "But - but he was your apprentice! Doesn't that make him like a son to you?"

Normally, Layton had better manners. Normally, Layton tried to give an explanation. But normally, the people asking were friends he'd had for years, colleagues, or people he'd met on his adventures. This group of men was composed of relative strangers, and he had no desire to sit by as they gawked. He finished his Earl Grey, bid Luke farewell (the boy had, somewhere along the line, learned to read him as an open book; he gave Layton a confused look, asking what was wrong with his eyes), and proceeded to exit the building.

Were the truth to be told, Layton would say that he was, in fact, ashamed of his relationship with Luke. It had nothing to do with Luke as a person, or the fact that Luke was a man. Few people he knew anymore took issue with homosexuality, but nearly all took issue with pedophilia. He knew that it no longer counted - Luke was an adult, nearly finished with university, but many still saw him as a child. When Luke had been much younger, his crush on Layton was obvious. Everyone saw it (except for the Professor himself), and assumed that the man was merely humoring this kid by allowing him to tag along. They'd assumed their relationship was more akin to mentor and student, or father and son. Not... this, whatever this was. Layton had enough doubts about the direction his moral compass was pointing, and he certainly did not need added pressure from a man he hardly knew.

"Layton!" Something flared up in his stomach. He thought to himself, cruelly, that if Phoenix had followed him out to offer his services as defense attorney should a case on child abuse arise, that he might hit the other man.

Nonetheless, Hershel turned around. Phoenix Wright was, in fact, his friend. He deserved the benefit of the doubt. "Yes?"

Wright's face bore a curious expression. Were one to bisect it, it would appear that one side was frowning while the other was smiling. "I just wanted to say - I'm sorry about Castle's comment."

Layton crossed his arms. "Yes, well, perhaps -"

"I'm dating my apprentice too." Layton's jaw dropped slightly. "Well, apprentice isn't quite the right word - he is, ah, my protege, in a way. He's...about ten years younger than me. And he's hero-worshiped me forever. I mean, at least, he used to, until he actually got to know me." Phoenix laughed, rubbing the ridiculous hat on his head. The laugh was uncomfortable, but the man seemed...relieved. "I just - I wanted to say, you know, no judgement on my part. Whatever makes you happy... makes you happy."

Layton averted his eyes, but smiled all the same. "Thank you," he whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Phoenix decides to meet with Layton at the same time in a different cafe, and he's not the least bit bothered by the fact that this means he won't be seeing the other dads of the club. Layton tries not to blush or feel bad about it, but it's part of his nature. Luke and Apollo stop by, and Apollo looks absolutely livid. "Stupid fucking puzzle," he mumbles, making Layton laugh; but as soon as they're out of earshot, he says to Phoenix, "How could anyone say something like that to him?" 

It takes Phoenix a minute to realize that Apollo is referring to the incident with Mr. Castle and his confusion over Luke's position in Layton's life. "His fiancee has apologized for him," Phoenix explains, but Apollo only crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head. Phoenix understands the sentiment - he wasn't totally won over by it, either.

They're surprised to see Bro and Dad come in, and Dad waves a hand around explaining that "Time doesn't really work the same way for us" but he is "technically quite a bit older" than Bro, whose name is sometimes Dirk. Phoenix doesn't understand the full explanation, but he likes Dad's company and the interactions between Bro and Apollo are priceless. Luke, for his part, writes up a new sign for them:  _hot dads with younger boyfriends club: now accepting new members_.

The first person to stare at them inquisitively is a man in a trench coat. He looks like he's maybe in his fifties, and has P.I. written all over him. 

Phoenix leans, elbows on the table and head on his hands, trying to be intimidating. "Can we help you, sir?"

"Hm?" he hums, then shakes his head. "Sorry, I was just thinking about your sign and got lost in thought."

"You a dad?" Bro asks. He doesn't even ask for the 'hot' part - everything seems hot to him.

The man shifts uncomfortably. "I was. My kid died."

The group is quiet for a moment, not even sure how to blurt out an apology. "Do you have a young boyfriend?" is the next question.

He shakes his head again. "Nah, but I do have a young girlfriend." He looks around nervously. "Her dad used to hang out with you all, that's part of why I'm so confused."

Layton frowns. "And who is your significant other?"

"Heather Mason."

* * *

Layton seems a lot more comfortable, now that it's no longer just him and Phoenix. Not that he minds more solitary company, but it makes him easier to know that they're not the only ones with much younger significant others.

Although he doesn't exactly fit the bill, they do invite the detective - Douglas Cartland, he says his name is - to join them on occasion. He never stays for long, always trying to dodge someone's attention (though none of the rest of them see the white-haired bitch of which he speaks, it wouldn't surprise them to know she is around; Silent Hill is, like Homestuck, a confusing platform on which to exist). 

They don't have another request to join the club until about a month later, and Phoenix has never seen something quite like Pitch Black before. He must be seven feet tall at least - probably taller than that, if he weren't slouching. It's just Phoenix, Layton, and Dad - their partners are at another table, chatting with a young boy in blue who looks like a walking case of hypothermia. Pitch eyes their sarcastic sign with some scrutiny, before speaking up. "How much of an age difference?" he asks.

"Ten years," Phoenix says first.

Layton tips his hat to cover his eyes, and mumbles, "Quite a bit more than that."

Pitch raises an eyebrow. "By how much?"

Layton looks over at where Luke is sitting. He doesn't really need to do the math in his head - he already knows the age difference, it's always at the front of his mind. "...around twenty years," he says, trying to remain nonchalant and pretending he's not sweating under that hat. Phoenix is a little surprised by the numbers, if only because he's never really paid attention. _He was in his twenties when Luke was born? ...damn, and people think I'm old enough to be Apollo's father..._

Pitch doesn't seem disturbed at all, looking next to Dad. "And you?" he asks.

Dad takes the pipe from his mouth. "It's hard to keep up," he says. 

"And what about you?" Phoenix asks, wondering how anyone could top Layton (not that he's judging!) in the age gap scale.

Pitch snorts. "Try a couple thousand years."


End file.
